


Could've Been Worse

by i_luv_obiwan91



Series: Steve & Lizzie [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Beginning of attraction, But can lay in a punch, But still needs help and gets beat up, Damsels in Distress, F/M, First Date, Modern Day, Romance, Steve is a gentleman, breakfast date, super light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3978997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_luv_obiwan91/pseuds/i_luv_obiwan91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nodding, Steve accepted that answer gladly, and decided to probe a little further. “So, how do you feel about it?” He raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she raised one of her own, her gaze calm.<br/>“I feel like you should call me ‘Lizzie,’ because nobody calls me that anymore, and I like you.</p><p>Steve and Lizzie meet for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could've Been Worse

Bike, backpack, saddlebags, and a tote bag full of fruit in her arms, Elizabeth got a slow start pedaling and finally got up to speed down the bike lane, praying she could ride a straight line with all her groceries intact. Traffic was unpredictable like that, stupid pedestrians on their phones even better, but nothing takes the cake quite like a determined group of idiot men. She was coasting at a good speed when the concrete rail jammed in her spokes, causing the woman’s momentum to send her over the handlebars and bouncing off the curb. The fall crushed bananas, ruined strawberries, bruised apples—Elizabeth even heard the new coffee carafe shatter in its box—but her head and arms seemed to take the hardest blows.

Shaking her head—grateful for the helmet still fastened to that head—Elizabeth stood with as little wobble as possible and got the pepper spray out of her pocket, aiming it out at the first idiot. Another guy behind her quickly took that arm but she struggled, managing to cut him pretty good with her keys before he restrained her against him.

“Thanks for the groceries, love. Why’d you have to klutz it up, though? Could’ve used these strawberries for somethin’ nice.” One of them approached her with tattooed sleeves and several colors of ink laced under his jaw, only adding to her disgust when he eyed her up and down lewdly.

“I don’t think the lady bought ‘em for you.” Another man had come up to them, but he was clean cut and obviously not part of the idiot band. Elizabeth took advantage of his distraction and stepped on her captor’s foot, loosing his hold so she could elbow him in the ribs. The new man acted on her cue, lunging into an uneven fight with the remaining few guys, and quickly laying them all low or running them off. Elizabeth’s attacker gave her a good blow to her ear, throwing her off the precious balance she’d gained and landing hard on the asphalt with a jerk of her head. She was lying on the ground catching her breath when the new guy came over. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Listening to him was difficult with all the cotton in her ears, and Elizabeth felt his hands steady her as she tried to sit up with her eyes screwed shut. “What? Thank you...” She mumbled, eyes still closed so she didn’t see the man frowning at her response.

“You’re injured, I’m calling an ambulance.” Getting out his cell, he hit the emergency contact and kept a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

Hearing him faintly now, she tried to protest. “Can’t afford an ambulance, just… just walk me to the hospital.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He told her gently but firmly, turning his head to relate the incident to the ‘911’ responder on the phone. After a minute, he returned both hands to her shoulders and looked her over before unbuckling the bike helmet. “What’s your name?” His eyes kept glancing to her cheek and eye socket that were starting to swell with fluid.

“Elizabeth… Elizabeth Wells.”

“I’m Steve. It’s good to meet you, Elizabeth. Gotta’ say, I wish it were under better circumstances.” He smirked a little when she met his eye and she returned it weakly, letting him carefully touch her hair to see if there was any bleeding and swelling.

“Well, it could’ve been worse, Steve. You could’ve passed on by, and let them take… _whatever_ it was they wanted. It turned out okay, I think.” They shared a smile before he helped support her as Elizabeth settled into a more comfortable sitting position, her head bent forward now that her ears were ringing.

“The ambulance is on its way. I think you’re concussed, Elizabeth, but they’ll take good care of you. Just stay with me.”

She nodded barely, trying not to move too much, and speaking quietly to not exert too much effort. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever been punched. Are _you_ all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You were pretty good yourself standing up to those guys. Not bad, at all.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

He looked over to see her bike and cargo spilled on the ground, back wheel bent and crooked from the bar being thrown in it. “Where were you going?”

Elizabeth looked up briefly at the wreck and winced, sorry for all the broken and damaged goods. “Just back to my apartment. There are some older people who don’t get out much, and I run errands for them every now and then. I don’t usually carry such a load, so I probably won’t be doing that again.” She groaned. “Man, I am really going to need coffee after this and they broke my dumb pitcher.” With slow movements, her hair was pushed to one side.

Steve saw what she was referring to, and frowned. “I can get all this back to your place if you want. Not leave it in the street, at least.” His offer was met with a sore smile, and they traded contact info just as the ambulance pulled up. They put her on a stretcher to be safe, and Elizabeth reached out to grab his arm for a second. “Hey, _thank_ _you_.” Steve managed to touch her hand and nod before they rolled her up into the bus and shut the doors.

 

Elizabeth knew the hospital would take forever, but she was glad they at least let her go before midnight. She checked her phone to read 11:48pm. Nailed it. Exhausted and sore, she called a friend and melted into the front seat when she arrived. She almost cried at the top of three flights of stairs once she was home and saw a very neat stack of groceries, some fresh fruit—that weren’t bruised—and a note tucked in the bag on top.

‘ _Hope this carafe fits your coffee maker, there were more options than I expected. Call if you need anything, and take care of yourself, Elizabeth. – Steve Rogers’_

Sure enough, there was a replacement coffee pitcher in a new box as part of the stack. Her bike was propped against the door, and Elizabeth let the tears fall when she picked up the seat and spun a straight and perfectly new rear wheel. “That dork.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes, murmuring to herself and unlocking the door to the small flat. Once everything was transferred to the kitchen—either put away, or set aside to deliver to her neighbors the next day—Elizabeth took off her clothes except for comfortable essentials and collapsed into bed.

Smothering her cries in the pillow for a while, trying not to feel the throbbing in her head, Elizabeth pulled out her phone and dimmed it before texting the number Steve had given her earlier. She had never been one to come on to a guy, and she hoped this wasn’t considered a start, because she honestly liked this one. Just wanted to get to know him better. ‘ _Can I thank you for the coffee pot by inviting you to have some with me?’_ Send. After a moment, she moaned into the pillow and regretted her choice of words. “I meant have some _coffee_ with me, Steve! Please don’t misread that and think I want to smoke _pot_ with you!”

Quick vibrations from the phone interrupted her embarrassment and Elizabeth struggled to focus again on the tiny words. _‘I’d love to. How’s 10, too early?’_

Elizabeth grinned and felt her stomach flop around a bit in excitement for a change. ‘ _Make it 10:30 and I might be ambitious enough to make brunch.’_

She thought she’d only blinked, but when her cell vibrated again, it jolted her awake. ‘ _Sounds wonderful. See you then.’_ Elizabeth fell asleep with a smile, dreaming of stronger hands than her own massaging her aching head.

 

It was good to have something to look forward to when she woke up, because everything about her body was telling her to stay down for the count. Funny how you don’t realize everywhere you were hurt until the next day. Scrapes, cuts, and bruises all stiffened her movements out of bed, crinkling the bandages she wore on her elbows and palms. Showering was out of the question—she knew the agonies that would bring later when she attempted it—so up her hair went into a loose French braid. A little nervous already, Elizabeth tried not to linger in front of the mirror longer than necessary to put a washcloth to her face and see to the tender flesh starting to darken a bit around her left eye.

The first few pancakes were ready to flip when the knock came to her door, and Elizabeth quickly unlocked it, pulled it open, and smiled at Steve before quickly jumping back in her galley kitchen to flip them. “Hi!” She smiled at him when he came around the corner and saw what she was working on.

The smell of bacon greeted him, and coffee hot and ready in the pot just to his right, but what Steve saw was a lovely young woman looking at him with a bright smile. “ _Hi_.” He felt his old nervousness around girls come back a bit now that they weren’t in an emergency situation. “How are you feeling?” His brows knit a little when he glanced at the colors starting to bloom around her eye.

“Pretty stiff and sore. I got some pain meds from the hospital yesterday and those are helping with my headache.” Carefully, she poured in more batter for another set of three pancakes, then reached for her cup as their bubbles started to form. “But my coffee has been _wonderful_ , I really can’t thank you enough, Steve. I’ve got a mug down for you, if you want to make yourself a cup. I hope you like it strong.” She took a drink of her own to encourage him, and he obliged her by picking up the mug that had writing on it ‘ _Not all those who wander are lost_.’

He smirked, pouring himself some of the opaque brew and turning to Elizabeth again, finding her regarding him with a bit of a critical eye. “Are you good at cooking eggs?” She asked like she might be a little doubtful.

Steve shrugged, took a drink of his coffee. “Fried, scrambled, over-easy, omelet...?”

His answer seemed to qualify him for the job and she reached in the fridge to pull out a carton of a dozen. “Two, fried medium, but I like my yolk a little runny, please.”

He took the eggs from her and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” They worked well side by side at the little stovetop, however large Steve seemed, and Elizabeth commanded her own amount of elbow room being no short gal herself. Steve laughed when she complimented his egg cooking ‘finesse,’ and she laughed in turn when he told her he liked variety because of how many he typically ate a day. “I’m a growing boy, I need my protein.”

“You’re looking pretty manly to me, little boy.” She glanced up at him sidelong and gave him a bit of a smile, seeing him return it with some shyness. “But seriously, I hope I can fill you up with pancakes and bacon, because I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough eggs to satisfy you.”

“Pancakes will be a welcome change. They look delicious.” There was a sizeable stack of them now, and Steve had cooked about 4 eggs for himself (too polite to let Elizabeth offer him the rest of her dozen) and the requested 2 for his hostess who was getting prettier with every pancake she flipped.

Handing him a plate, Elizabeth turned to fix up another cup of coffee and watched with pride as her guest heaped a plate full of everything. “Regrettably, I do not have a table. I’ve got a couple trays, we can sit on the couch.” She apologized and handed him one as they sidestepped past each other in the little kitchen.

Conversation came with comfortable flow in between eating, and Steve found himself put at ease by Elizabeth’s manner and wit. Eventually it came up—as he knew it would—that he was Captain America. She paused for a minute, but then laughed quietly and smiled at him. “That makes sense.”

“Does that make this… different?” He asked carefully, a little awkwardly, trying to judge what to call this infancy of a relationship.

“No.” Elizabeth regarded him for a few seconds. “If you told me you were a marine, or an army officer, or air force pilot I’d feel the same way.”

Nodding, Steve accepted that answer gladly, and decided to probe a little further. “So, how do you _feel_ about it?” He raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she raised one of her own, her gaze calm.

“I feel like you should call me ‘Lizzie,’ because nobody calls me that anymore, and I like you.” Keeping eye contact with a smirk, the woman took the tray off his lap and left him to go clean them up and put them away.

Steve grinned when her back turned, shaking his head and feeling a swell of assurance. “ _Lizzie_ , Lizzie…” He mouthed the name to himself, trying it out before quickly rising to accompany her in the kitchen. “Uh, do you need anything? Can I clean up in here?”

“Well, I hate to ask, but I would really appreciate if you could be my dishwasher. I’m not crazy about getting these wet yet.” Lizzie looked at her palms that were still bandaged from the hospital.

Frowning, he noticed that they needed changing from overnight wear. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it. You _are_ gonna to get some fresh bandages on those soon?” Steve eyed her with concern when she hesitated.

“Yeah, they sent me home with some supplies to re-do them. I’ll figure it out after I shower, I guess. Not looking forward to that, either.”

Taking that answer for now, but dissatisfied, Steve offered a bit of consolation as he gathered their dishes to the sink. “Yeah, washing myself up after a good beating was never my favorite past-time.”

Elizabeth started covering up the leftovers, but quirked her brow over at him. “I’d be scared of anyone who could give _you_ a good beating.”

His smile was dry. “Some of the alleys in Brooklyn aren’t there anymore, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t get kicked around in ‘em. Before all of this—“ There was a gesture made vaguely toward his body. “—You would have been a couple heads taller, and probably able to kick me across the street along with my pride. Temper’s always been the same, though.” Steve smirked at her, in a way that showed the not-just-a-gentleman side of him. “I got in a lot of fights. And I never won, but I got up.”

Elizabeth nodded in understanding and smiled thoughtfully before moving to put some of the food away. While he dutifully washed, she couldn’t help landing an appreciative gaze on him every chance she could sneak it, only getting caught a couple of times while they talked and she had to quickly school her expression back to interest in the conversation. Kitchen clean, the two of them stood leaning on counters and sinks talking for quite a while longer. Finally, Steve made the effort to leave her in peace and Lizzie followed him the few steps to the door.

“You know, I can tell you don’t do this often.” She started, not quite letting him out the door and moving to hold her bandaged arms carefully.

“What’s that? Clean up a kitchen?” The joke was weak because he knew what she meant.

But she said it out loud anyway; because something told her he needed things straightforward. “Talk with a girl.” Simple enough, but he took it a little differently than she intended.

“That bad, huh?” He glanced down, internally shaking his head at himself.

“No, Steve.” Light reprimand in her tone. “I meant it’s refreshing. You’re genuine. And I genuinely like you.” Lizzie took a turn looking at her bare feet and stalling for a moment. “And I would be genuinely happy if we see each other again.”

A different kind of expression came over his face in response, and he smiled slightly, eyes warm. “So was this our first date?”

Elizabeth blushed and laughed with a little shrug. “Could’ve been worse.”


End file.
